


Leo

by Tantaylor



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Other, Summer Mornings, Unusual Friendships, paintings, parks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor
Summary: Nick makes friends with a little boy in the park.And this although he doesn't like children very much.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Leo

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in Summer 2000.
> 
> I just wanted to write something completely different for once. Let me know what you think.

Even here in the park you could still hear it a bit. Drilling and hammering.  
But the birds were louder. Nick didn't know that birds were so loud.  
Well, there were a lot of things he didn't know. For example, that there was this little park just down the street from his flat.

He didn't know what Chelsea looked like at eight in the morning.  
He was usually asleep by then, because he was a night person through and through. He almost never went to bed before 3am.  
And then the renovation work on his house had begun. The workers came at seven in the morning, every day, even today, and today was Saturday.  
Monday Nick had been angry about it, Tuesday he had left his flat before eight o'clock for the first time since his school days.

Wednesday he had taken his camera and was surprised how beautiful his neighbourhood was. How different everything looked in the morning in summer. Then he had found this park, with this half-decayed equestrian statue. The light was great, perfect for painting, so he had come here on Thursday with a folding chair, an easel and his oil paints.  
The last few years he had only taken photographs or made drawings, half-hearted pencil sketches, in a notebook. At airports, in a plane.  
Now he sat here and painted, and he found that it was extraordinarily relaxing. The light, the birdsong and even the soft background noise of drills and hammers. 

A red ball rolled across the lawn and bounced against the statue he was painting, the strong colour an enormous contrast to the grey stone. The little boy who followed the ball was also a contrast. Life against decay. His sweatshirt was almost the same colour as the ball, bright red.

Nick had no idea about children and, to be honest, he didn't like them very much either. They were loud, they left chaos and destruction behind, had greasy fingers and no manners.  
The little one picked up the ball, then he noticed Nick.  
Just stood there and looked at him. Interested, a little surprised.  
He did not come any closer. Surely his parents had warned him about strange men, and Nick knew he didn't quite fit in with his silver suit, the heavily made-up eyes and the almost white-blonde coloured hair.  
He wondered whether he should smile at the boy, but then thought that a strangely dressed man smiling at little boys in the park might send the wrong signals.  
That was sad, right? Living in a world like this, were smiling at kids could be taken as something different then friendliness.  
The boy was still standing there looking at him, probably for 10 minutes. It was amazing.  
Those little monsters usually never could keep still for even two minutes, couldn`t they?  
So he finally smiled, Because he was deeply impressed. The boy smiled back. Open and full-hearted.  
Then a young woman came running. Probably his mother, although somehow she looked too young to be a mother.  
She pulled the boy with her.  
Nick looked after them.  
The little boy looked back over his shoulder, then raised his little hand to a wave.  
Nik waved back.

Another Saturday, another morning in the park.  
His painting made progress. The red ball in front of the grey stone looked great.

He was so absorbed in mixing the right colour for the tree in the background that he almost dropped the palette when someone approached him.

"What are you doing?"

It was the little boy from last week. He was standing right in front of the easel.

“I paint.”

“What do you paint?”

“The statue.”

“What is his name? “

“Whose name?”

“Of the man on the horse who had the doves pooped on his head.”  
Nick chuckled.  
“I have no idea. Why don't you look it up? I'm sure it's on there somewhere.”

“I'm four. I can't read.”  
Oh. Of course.

“Well, I can check it out. Please do not touch anything, yes?”

No idea why he did that. Maybe because he was too stupid to realise that the boy was too young to read.  
Anyway, he kind of liked this little guy. 

“Sorry, it's something chiselled in, but it's too weathered to read.”  
The little boy had looked at the canvas on the easel and now shone at him. 

"You painted my ball."

"I think it's a nice colour.”

“You can paint quite well.”

“You think so? Thank you.”

“We could give him a name.”

“Who?”

“The man. On the horse. I'm Leo.”  
He reached out his little hand to him.

“Nice to meet you, Leo. I`m Nick.”

“What do you call that? The thing that has your painting on it.”

“This is an easel.”

“Cool. That's what I want for my birthday. Because I like to paint, you know? Maybe one day I can paint as well as you.”  
They talked for a while, which was amazing because Nick had never talked to four-year-olds before. At least not in coherent sentences.

Leo was a smart little guy.  
Nick found it almost a bit sad when the young woman reappeared and took Leo away with her. They waved goodbye.

Again it was Saturday. The painting was almost finished.  
He kept looking up and looking around, and only when Leo came running towards him did he realise that he had been waiting for him.  
“Hello, Nick.”

“Good morning, Leo, how are you? You're late today.”

“Nika and I were at the market. I brought you an apple. My dad says apples are healthy”

“I think your father is right. And who is Nika? Your mum?”

“Nooo. My mum no longer lives with us, with dad and me. Nika is the girl who should look after me. But she doesn't do that at all, she always reads books, and then she gets scared when I'm not there. But I only visit my Saturday friend. You. You are my Saturday friend.”

Saturday friend. This was kinda cute, huh?

“Thanks for the apple, Saturday friend. Do you like Nika?”

Leo shrugged. “She`s ok. I prefer being with my dad. But he often works late at night. That's why we come to the park in the morning. So Daddy can sleep. Nika is an Au-bear.”  
Nick very briefly felt the need to correct Leo. Au-pair. But he left it alone. The boy was four, he didn't need to pronounce French words correctly.

“You know, Leo, I was thinking. About the man on the horse. He looks like a George to me.”

“Hmmm, I dunno. More like a Paul.”

“He might have a double name.”

“Do you have one? A second name?”

“Yes. My name is Nicholas James.”

“I also have two names. But I like being Leo. Why do you actually put make-up on your eyes?”

Leo helped him to mix the colours and the boy was really talented. He had a good eye. 

It took over an hour for Nika to show up, and that made Nick a little bit angry. Maybe he should tell Leo's father that this girl didn't really take her job seriously.  
Again it was Saturday, again Nick was in the park. But this time without folding chair and easel. The painting was finished. 

And he had decided to give it to Leo.  
But it was almost nine, and Leo had not yet shown up. Perhaps the inattentive Nika had overslept. 

He was about to leave, feeling strangely sad, when the familiar voice was heard.  
“Nick! Nick! Guess what?” 

A breathless Leo flung his arms around him, what startled him a bit.

“I told my dad about you, and he says he knows a Nick who paints his eyes. And then I said your name was Nicholas James and…”

“And it's really you. I couldn't believe it.”

Nick looked up. Looked at the man who had said that.  
The rolled up canvas slipped away from him.

The resemblance was astonishing. Leo looked like his father. Why had he not noticed that? It was so obvious.  
"My God," he said softly. 

"That's my daddy! And you know what? We all have double names, it's funny, isn't it? My real name is Elliot Dante, your name is Nicholas James, and my daddy..."

"Roger. Roger Andrew. Where the hell have you been, man?" Nick didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  
It became a mixture of both when he held Roger in his arms.


End file.
